


Musings by a Bedside

by rthecynic



Series: Musketeer Musings [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos is very much a dad, Gen, Hurt!d'Artagnan, protective!Athos, very vague references to suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:25:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthecynic/pseuds/rthecynic
Summary: Athos' musings as he sits by D'Artagnan's bedside whilst he recovers from an injury.





	Musings by a Bedside

You look down at the boy as he lays on the bed. There is sweat upon his brow, the bandages around his chest stained crimson. You dip the washcloth into the bucket, wring it out, wipe his skin with it. He will live, Aramis has assured you, as long as his fever is kept down. The wound was not too deep, the blood loss not too great. The infection is the greatest danger, and Aramis has done everything he can to prevent it. All you can do is try to keep him cool. And wait. All you can really do is wait.

It's unbearable, the waiting. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, watch for any sign of movement, of life returning to him. As of yet, there is none. But his breathing is strong and steady, and that’s surely a good sign. You place a hand to his forehead. Warm, but not hot. He still seems to be doing well. You breathe a sigh of relief, and you wait.

You’ve grown fond of him; you never would have imagined it when you first met him. He’s impulsive and reckless and arrogant, but he is also kind and loyal and loving and one of your dearest friends. You want to nurture him, teach him, protect him. He is like the son you never had. You can feel it in your heart. It would destroy you to lose this boy. It would kill you. Now, when you’ve been able to begin to open your heart again.

You’d always wanted to be a father. Perhaps you could have been, once. But that was a long time ago. You’d loved and lost, entirely by your own actions, and now you were paying the price. _He _was paying the price. There was a time when the two of you could have been happy; could have had a family. You could have been the proud father, watching your little ones grow, your beautiful wife the envy of all men who knew you. You could have lived happy and carefree and without the regrets that plague your heart. But it’s too late for that now.__

__She’s seen how you care for the boy; a young orphan from Gascony, with no-one left in the world but you and your two companions. He’s fit into your little group like a missing puzzle piece; you hadn’t realised what you were missing until he came along to make you whole. She has seen how you shield him, how you always keep one eye on him during battle. She watched him pull you from that fire, saw the unspoken bond that formed between you that night. She knew that losing everything a second time would be the end of you._ _

__You can still hear your own screams echoing in your ears as the image of him, covered in blood, your ex-wife standing over him with a blade in hand, fills your mind. You see the way she looked at you; eyes so filled with malice and hated. You understand why she despises you so. You despise yourself yet more. And in that moment, you knew; this was your fault. The boy was hurt because of what you did. And you could do nothing but watch._ _

__Your hand finds his and you hold it tight, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. You will never forgive yourself if he doesn’t wake. You dread to think what you might do. But for now, you must fight. You must go on. When he wakes, he will need you. You must think of _when _, not _if _. To consider the other possibility is unthinkable. He will be fine. _Your boy _will be fine…_______ _

________You are vaguely aware of Porthos. He is trying to convince you to take a break; to retire to your rooms and rest a while. He will stay with the boy, he promises. He will come to fetch you if there is any change. Still you refuse. You are the one who must watch over him. You know no rest will come if you leave. You cannot banish the images from your mind; images of what _has _happened, and of what _might _happen. At least whilst you are here, you can watch the rise and fall of his chest, feel his pulse thrumming beneath your fingers, and you can _hope _._______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________You doze off eventually, woken by a squeeze to your hand. It is weak, but it is there, and you open your eyes. The boy is watching you, and he is smiling.  
“Athos…” he whispers, and you feel a heavy weight lift from your chest. Your heart seems lighter, and you find yourself returning the smile.  
“It’s alright, lad,” you assure him, pushing strands of sweat-soaked hair from his eyes. “You’re safe now. I’m going to watch over you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________You feel the truth of your words as you speak them, deep in your very soul. This is your boy, the son of your heart, and no harm will come to him for as long as you live. You swear it to yourself in that moment; you would lay down your life for this boy, but for now, you will continue to live and to fight. You will train him and you will protect him, and you know that he will grow to become the finest Musketeer the garrison has ever seen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I love love LOVE the mentor/protegé, almost very father/son relationship between D'Artagnan and Athos, so I thought I would just write up a quick thing exploring that. I only just got back into this fandom, and I'd forgotten just how much I love these boys and their antics!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> I'm capitaineathos on Tumblr if anyone wants to come say hi, or send me prompts or fic requests! Or you can catch me on my main, rthecynic.


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